Chapter 3: Mourning Year — 1855

A few weeks later, in February, a scandal shook the county. A sabre duel had been fought over Priscilla Bywater by her erstwhile fiancé, Cpt. James Tremayne, and her new groom, Major Lucius Marsden-Smith. In spite of his barely healed wounds, Tremayne had bested Marsden-Smith so thoroughly that the man tried to flee the scene and sprained his ankle whilst slipping. He was unable to continue the engagement, but the seconds determined that the affair was not settled as Marsden-Smith incurred his injury whilst outside the designated boundaries. Tremayne offered a second rendezvous, but Marsden-Smith, unaware of his already damaged reputation, refused claiming that his sprained ankle incapacitated him.

Thus was the state of things when young Tremayne left the country for a fresh start in the Americas. Public opinion was unanimously condemning Marsden-Smith as a coward and his commission was revoked by the officer commanding the depot troops of his regiment.

All this was discussed at length in the salons of the gentry. The Marsden-Smiths were a wealthy family but not particularly well liked, and people took gleeful pleasure running their mouth on Lucius who had avoided being deployed to the Crimea with his regiment, allowing him to poach on the fiancée of a comrade-in-arms. Conversely, the fallen officers and their families received renewed attention and praise. Hardly a day went by without a neighbour paying his respects to Sir Charles and to Suzanne.

Granted, several of their visitors were also sizing up Suzanne as a potential future wife or daughter-in-law, once her mourning year would be over. Those met with firm rebukes by Suzanne who made it clear that she had no place in her heart for another man. In this, she was united with Siobhan Pryce, Lord Lambert’s daughter, who also rejected the veiled and not so veiled advances made by her visitors. The two young widows visited each other often and a friendship developed between them.

Her stance also garnered Suzanne the respect of the neighbours resulting in even more visits and invitations. Often, Sir Charles remained behind to keep his granddaughter company, but just as often he felt compelled to accompany his daughter-in-law or to receive her visitors at Stepley Hall. This effectively ended the self-imposed isolation he had maintained for two decades. Many of his neighbours hardly knew him, and those who did held him for unsociable. Whilst he would never be described as extroverted, the neighbours learned that Sir Charles was quite knowledgeable of current affairs and events, and a good conversationalist.

Come the spring, there was a subdued celebration at Stepley Hall of Alice’s sixth birthday. She received books and a three-quarter-sized violin as presents, and most importantly, her own mount. Daisy was small grey mare of six years and, having foaled twice already, she was as gentle as a lamb. For Alice, it was love at first sight. For Suzanne it was the start of a losing fight to keep the stable smell out of her daughter’s clothes. In the first days, Alice spent almost every waking minute of her day on or near Daisy, sometimes simply sitting in her box and watching the mare feed or sleep.

In the saddle, she and her horse quickly became a single, symbiotic organism, and the daily rides became longer with each passing day. Sir Charles was not much of a horseman and neither was Suzanne, but a young corporal invalided out from the 13th Light Dragoons was hired by Sir Charles as a riding instructor and chaperone for Alice’s outings. He was also responsible for bringing Alice to school in the mornings and for picking her up when school let out. This arrangement gave Suzanne the use of the carriage. The young man, named Horace Paddington for his sins and immediately re-christened “Paddy” by Alice, was well liked by the staff and Sir Charles privately earmarked him to succeed Winslow once that worthy man wanted to relinquish the driver’s seat.

In early May, Sir Charles made his annual journey to London to visit the Admiralty, draw his Captain’s half-pay of £447.12s .6p and study the captains list. He was very close to the top now, and his promotion to rear admiral would be due in the next years he estimated. Not that he was expecting a sea-going command. He had not been to sea in twenty years and his knowledge of steam-powered ships was from books and newspaper reports only. He assumed to be appointed to a shore command should he attain the coveted flag rank, and he suddenly found himself attracted to such a task.

As usual, he lodged at his London club, the St. Croix where he had been a life-long member. The membership was expensive, but it was the only luxury in which he indulged. Moreover, the membership was inherited from his father and his sense of tradition would never allow him to give up the single-digit membership number that dated back to the year 1808, the founding year of the St. Croix.

As usual, his stay there was pleasant. The old Marquis de St. Croix, who had founded the club a decade after fleeing revolutionary France, was approaching eighty years of age, but he made it a point to welcome the son of one of the first members. On his third night at the St. Croix, Sir Charles dined with his host and his wife in the special dining hall where spouses and mistresses were allowed. The Marquis’s wife was still a beautiful woman at over 70 years of age, and Sir Charles could only guess at the devastating beauty she must have possessed in her younger years. They recalled some common friends, mostly long gone, and Sir Charles related the changes to his household.

“Ah, but you are lucky, my friend,” the Marquis opined. “You have been alone for too long. The laughter of a child in the house is the best medicine against the malaise that so often encroaches on us with age.”

When with friends, the Marquis dispensed with the affected French accent he normally used. His wife, known universally as Doña Maria for she had been the widow of a high ranking Spanish grande, smiled in agreement.

“My son’s children were a holy terror, but I enjoyed every minute of their visits.”

“I trust they are well?” Sir Charles asked.

“Oh, but they are. Henry is now 2nd Lieutenant in Sea Lion, but with his 1st Lieutenant retiring into civilian life, he will soon move up the ladder. Once in the Nº1 spot, he will likely be made commander soon. And not a moment too soon I should say. He is about to be engaged to Moira Palmer, Lord Brougham’s granddaughter.”

“I remember meeting her mother once. Lovely lady,” Sir Charles remarked.

“So true, and her daughter is just the sweetest young woman!” Doña Maria smiled. “Marrying Admiral Lord Brougham’s granddaughter will certainly help Henry too.”

“I should think so,” Sir Charles agreed. “By the way, you are an old friend of Sir Anthony Carter, are you not?”

Doña Maria blushed a little but she smiled. “He is one of my oldest and dearest friends. Why?”

“He was involved in a duel between two Army officers. He seconded a young captain of the dragoons.”

Doña Maria shook her head. “Oh, dear! What did Harriet say?”

“I do not know, but his granddaughter Siobhan was championing the young captain.”

“How did the duel play out?” the Marquis asked.

“Captain Tremayne handily drove his opponent before himself until that coward turned heels,” Charles answered bitingly. “And this in spite of his barely healed battle wounds. Quite a young man is Captain Tremayne.”

“Oh, they duelled with swords?”

Sir Charles nodded. “Sabres. Not an easy feat when you were gut shot just a few months ago.”

“And his opponent?”

“He sprained his ankle and refused to continue the engagement or renew it. They’ll make him resign from the regiment from what I hear. Serves him right if you ask me.”

“Quite so,” the Marquis agreed. “One should pity his family.”

The talk then turned to London affairs, giving Sir Charles an update on the gossip that he hoped to remember well enough to relay it to his daughter-in-law. It had been a delightful dinner, he decided once he was in his rooms, a small suite on the second story reserved for senior members.

After a good night’s sleep, he was able to finish his business in London on the next morning, and by early afternoon, Winslow was driving the coach back to Stepley where they arrived shortly after nightfall.

Conducting his business in London had made him aware of an omission he had made, and on the next morning, whilst breaking his fast with Suzanne, he brought it up.

“Madam, I believe it is time now to discuss your annuity. You will have certain needs and wishes, and I would like to provide you with the necessary funds.”

Suzanne was a little surprised as he could see.

“Sir Charles, I have no such expectation. I understand my position quite clearly and...”

“Allow me to interrupt. Had it not been for my lapse of judgement, Adam would have received an annuity from me to maintain him in an appropriate style. As a matter of fact, he received such an annuity up until the time he declared for you and defied my ill-conceived wishes. In fact, I have no idea how he was able to purchase the cottage you lived in.”

Suzanne smiled sadly. “He never spoke much about this, but my understanding was that he saved those payments and used them for the purchase. He was never one to waste money on cards or drink.”

Sir Charles hung his head, feeling embarrassed. “Still, Madam, would you do me the favour of accepting a regular income for you to use at your discretion?”

“I do have a sum of money from the sale of Adam’s commission,” Suzanne maintained, but Sir Charles was adamant.

“You will have yet more of that when I will provide you with the monies due for the years when I was failing as a father. Please accept, Madam. It is only money, and you should have funds befitting the mother of my heiress.”

Suzanne sighed. “I yield and I thank you kindly for the generosity you have displayed. How much is it anyway?”

Sir Charles thought briefly. “I used to double his pay. Since I am certain of his eventual advancement to Lieutenant Colonel, I would offer you the equivalent. £ 380 to be exact.”

Her eyes opened in surprise.

“For what would I need such a sum? We live for free under your roof.”

“You may wish for additional garments, for books and other items, Madam. You may wish to be charitable. It will be at your discretion if and how you will spend the monies.”

Suzanne took a deep breath. “I see a few items that I might wish for, but I do not see myself being wasteful. I accept your very generous offer in the spirit you described, but I shall use the funds prudently.”

“Excellent. I shall charge my solicitor with the execution. Let me also offer you the full use of a coach for your needs.”

“But surely you will have need for Mr Winslow’s continued service. I cannot leave you stranded here,” Suzanne protested.

“That young fellow Paddington, I shall have him trained by Winslow. There is an unused coach in the big barn, and we have spare horses. You can have your own coach.”

“Then by all means, Sir Charles, I accept your offer, although I suspect that you are aiming at spending more time with Alice whilst I am out making visits?”

In spite of himself, Sir Charles smiled. “Yes, that would certainly be an added benefit for me, Madam.”

Over the summer, Suzanne made new friends. Captain Leander Prendergast of the Royal Navy was a new neighbour who had settled in a well appointed house close to Reading, and his daughter Penelope was engaged to marry Mr Edward Tremayne, the older brother of Captain Tremayne. The Tremaynes owned substantial lands and Edward Tremayne was the caretaker for his father. He had a good reputation amongst the neighbours. His future wife, Penelope, was a fine person by all accounts, and Suzanne quickly befriended her.

With the first half year of mourning over, Suzanne could now dispense with the black veil, and Sir Charles was treated to the sight of her copper-coloured hair, bound in a thick braid and reaching her lower back. More than before, Sir Charles was aware that his daughter-in-law was a strikingly attractive woman, and at times this flustered him considerably. Yet, her presence and the chance to see his granddaughter growing up more than made up for the uneasiness he sometimes felt in her presence.

He also began to discuss matters of his estate with her, for he found her to be not only well read, but also possessed of a well developed common sense. Among other duties, she took it upon herself to find a replacement for the late Mr. Ecklesby, the village apothecary and herbalist, who had passed away during the winter. Using her friendship with Siobhan Pryce she made contact with Lady Wilkes, the mother of Lady Lambert. That worthy lady was chairing a London hospital charity and known herself as an eminent herbalist.

Through Lady Wilkes, Suzanne found a surgeon by the name of Bruce Duncan who had recently retired from his service in the Royal Navy after twenty years. Now in his late forties, he was more than glad to be offered the vacant practice. It was a small practice to be sure, but Mr Duncan was soon able to supplement his income by serving as coroner for the Abingdon court. He also brought along his wife. Mrs Duncan was an experienced midwife and herbalist, thus complementing her husband’s expertise.

Another issue which he let Suzanne handle was also pressing. Increasing numbers of wounded and invalid soldiers were being shipped back to England from the Crimean war theatre. The heavy losses incurred by the British Army also left behind widows and orphans, often without any support by a government that was struggling to keep the British public in support of the war.

Together with Mrs Pryce, Suzanne helped to organise the support of the veterans, widows and orphans. Mrs Pryce received generous contributions from her father, Lord Lambert, and from her grandfather, Admiral Sir Anthony Carter, whilst Suzanne used her coach to collect numerous small donations from their neighbours. Her standing as the widow of Major Adam Tolliver also helped her in her quest, and by late summer, over £ 8,200 could be put into a trust from which sums were doled out to support the needy. Suzanne saw to it that the orphaned children living on Stepley lands were visiting the village school whilst their mothers were given work by the tenants. Some of the latter balked at the idea, but backed by Sir Charles, she persevered in her quest.